


The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret

by Woldy



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Breathplay, Infidelity, Kink, M/M, Motorbike, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-27
Updated: 2009-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woldy/pseuds/Woldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is about vulnerability, isn't it? And if the trust is broken – well, that's the risk everyone takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hp_unfaithful fest using the prompt 'motorbike'. This fic owes a great deal to Xylodemon's wonderful stories about the Marauders &amp; I intend the imitation as the sincerest form of flattery. Many thanks to [](http://nathaniel-hp.livejournal.com/profile)[**nathaniel_hp**](http://nathaniel-hp.livejournal.com/) for beta-ing this fic.

1.

I admit that Sirius and I have sex on the nights he wears the phoenix t-shirt, but it's not as sneaky as that sounds.

The t-shirt isn't some kind of private hanky code symbolising 'fuck me, James Potter'. I mean, you've seen Sirius in it, right? How it stretches tight across his chest showing his muscles and ribs, even his nipples. Sirius is bloody hot in that shirt, so when he's wearing motorbike leathers and our adrenalin is flowing from giving cops and Death Eaters the run-around, well…

I think you get my drift. Or d'you want me to spell it out?

This wasn't planned, you know, so it's not like I suddenly decided to cheat on my wife. And, yeah, I know Sirius is cheating too, but that's his problem, isn't it? I'm not the infidelity police, even for my friends, which is a good thing because I'd be rubbish at it.

So it was a coincidence that Sirius was wearing the t-shirt, and honestly, nothing would have happened if Sirius weren’t so crap at riding the bike when he's thinking about sex.

Sirius would deny it, of course, but he knows that it buggers up his concentration. We started swerving all over the sky when he realised my hard-on was pressing against his arse. I thought we'd end up in charred pieces all over Hounslow.

So, Sirius landed the bike in some nasty alley, turned to me and said, "You're rubbing your cock against me."

I mean, what was I supposed to do? I couldn't deny it and lame excuses stop working once you've finished puberty. Yeah, there's not a lot of room on that bike, it was thrumming beneath me , thrill of the chase et cetera, but who was I fooling? I wouldn't have married Lily if I didn't think I could keep my cock in my pants. Generally speaking.

So I said, "You got a problem with that?" and Sirius shoved me against the wall. He was pressed against me, hard muscle, stubble and the smell of sweat, and then he got my trousers open and I could feel his erection rubbing mine through the leathers.

Leather feels incredible against my cock, it’s like skin but cooler, slicker and best of all it holds scent. After that night, Sirius' motorbike leathers smelled of come and the warmer he got, the more it stank of sex. Still does, actually. Now I get hard just seeing Sirius on the bike, the phoenix shirt taut against his body and those come-soaked leather trousers hugging his arse.

There's no need to look at me like that. I wouldn't have said anything if you hadn't fucking asked.  
2.

 

Infidelity is supposed to have signs, stray hairs on the collar, new scents, suspicious changes of clothing, but I don't look for any of that. Call it naive if you like, but I choose to trust Sirius, and not because he’s trustworthy but because he isn’t. He’s betrayed me before and it was almost a disaster, so our relationship is predicated on Sirius having learnt from that. If I looked for contrary evidence, then wouldn’t it be an accusation of guilt?

The first thing everyone knows about werewolves is that we're dangerous. The second is that we have very acute senses: that we can track a man by his scent or the whisper of his breathing.

Both of those things are true, but neither is simple.

I can smell someone's emotions or eavesdrop from the neighbouring room, but I choose not to do it. Pomfrey says that human brains aren't designed for lupine senses and ninety percent of the brain used for sensory input is devoted to sight. If I want to hear or smell with the wolf, then I close my eyes, focus and it emerges, less like new information than a shift of emphasis.

Perhaps this is long-winded, but my point is that werewolf senses are optional and I opt out. Smelling someone's fear or arousal is an intrusion, a breach of their privacy and trust as much as Legilimency. I don't want to spy on my friends, let alone those who don't know about me and can't guard against it.

Alright, yes, I use the extra senses when I'm spying on Dumbledore's behalf, but it leaves me feeling dirty. Sometimes I think he forgets that being a werewolf is a contamination, not a gift.

So even though I'm a werewolf, it's easy to lie to me without my knowing; I'm human enough to be subject to deception and betrayal. Love is about vulnerability, isn't it? And if the trust is broken – well, that's the risk everyone takes. I gamble that Sirius won’t break my trust. If he does...then I hope that I'll eventually forgive him for it.  
3.

 

After a few weeks it's easy to assume it'll keep working; that Remus won't mind or won't notice. He does, of course - both mind and notice – as I realise when I stumble in from patrolling with James and find Remus throwing the last of his books into his trunk.

"What are you doing?"

Remus wheels, his face cold. He snarls, "What the fuck d'you think I'm doing?" and slams the lid of the trunk closed.

The noise is probably what brings James into the room. He looks from me to Remus, and then back. "Where's he going?"

"Ask him, he won't explain to me."

James frowns. "What's going on, Remus?"

"Shouldn't you two be telling me that? Or were you planning to keep lying to me after you fuck?"

Remus pulls out his wand and grabs the handle of the trunk with his other hand. "Screw you both."

"You could, you know," I say quickly, making the joke which isn't really a joke because I reckon we've all been thinking it. "The thing is," I continue, licking my lip, "you can only fit two people on the back of the bike, but three would fit in a bed. There's room to roll about, even."

James turns to me, his eyes glinting and his lips parted, a little obscene, and I know he's in. James isn't nearly as straight as he claims to be.

"Remus?" I ask.

"I don't want any part of whatever messed up game you're playing," Remus says brusquely, his fingers tight on the handle of his trunk. "Let me -"

"No," says James, stepping into Remus' personal space, "don't leave."

They're both breathing hard, Remus glaring at James and James watching him so intensely that his gaze is almost scorching.

"I don't -" Remus says, his voice stuttering. "I can’t see you together, all the drama and deceit -"

"Bullshit," James replies in a liquid tone I haven’t heard him use before, "you just don't want to be left out."

There's a moment when Remus could walk away or Apparate, but he doesn't. The next second James is kissing him, tongue and teeth, and Remus moans inarticulately as he grabs James' hair in his fist.

Remus has never touched me like that, kissing as if it was a curse crackling from his fingertips.

"Fuck," gasps James, moving closer as his hand curls around the nape of Remus' neck. When he pulls away to catch his breath I hear James mutter "Fuck. Sirius, get over here."

I'm hardly even aware of moving but then my hip is pressed against James' buttock and I slide my hand over Remus' neck, brushing against James' fingers.

Remus pulls away from the kiss, nipping at James' throat, and when he says, "I hate you," I can't tell who the words are directed at. Perhaps at us both.

"No, you don't," James replies and kisses Remus again, slow and soft until Remus bites his lower lip and I hear James' sharp intake of breath.

"You don't have to be gentle with me, I'm not your fucking wife," Remus says and shoves James in the chest.

"Look," James says, pulling away. "You can kiss me or hit me but not both."

Remus wavers and for a few seconds James looks as though he's expecting a blow. Then Remus hisses, "You bastards!" and grabs James' shirt, twisting it in his hand and jerking James forward.

Their mouths slide together and James tugs my arm to pull me closer, so I mouth the side of James' jaw until his head turns. James and I are kissing, then James, I and Remus in a chaotic, hungry tangle of tongues.

The kiss doesn't stop until I feel a pair of hands pushing my t-shirt up and another cool hand tracing across my stomach.

"Christ," James says as he tugs the t-shirt over my head, and I realise it's the first time he's seen this much of my skin since school. It's certainly more of my body than he's seen while we've been messing around. Interesting that he expresses himself, the mix of lust and reverence, with a curse learnt from his wife.

I look up into Remus' narrow-eyed, contemptuous gaze. "Am I trespassing, here?" Remus asks.

"No," I say, suppressing the anger that Remus is trying to provoke.

I know he's hurt, but lashing out isn't going to solve anything. Fucking might not solve anything either, but I'm damned if I can see a better plan.

"How many times do we have to tell you?" says James with frustration, and starts unbuttoning Remus' shirt.

James hesitates minutely at the sight of Remus' scars and then covers the ugliest of them with his mouth, kissing a descending trail on Remus' stomach as he releases the buttons. As the shirt comes undone, James drops to his knees in front of Remus and I hear the clink of a belt buckle.

"Can I?" James asks as he slides down Remus' zipper, and Remus raises an ironic eyebrow at me.

"Don't ask me." I say hoarsely.

"No?" says Remus. "I thought dogs were territorial."

"Fucking stop this, both of you," James says, shoving Remus' jeans out of the way and pulling at his pants. "Kiss and make up or whatever. Sort your shit out."

Remus opens his mouth to reply and is silenced by James taking the head of his cock into his mouth. For the first time this evening Remus' fury seems to waver and he looks almost peaceful. His eyes close and his head tilts back, revealing the pale line of his throat.

"Merlin, you're gorgeous," I say, without thinking, and it feels natural to lean into Remus' back and drop a kiss onto his collarbone. For a moment he stills, and then his head rests against my shoulder, leaning into me as James sucks him.

Looking over Remus' shoulder I can see down his chest to where James kneels on the carpet, his lips sliding up and down Remus' cock. He seems intent on giving what I presume is his first blowjob and looks to be enjoying himself. Not anywhere near as straight as he claims to be.

I reach around to finger Remus' nipples and his body shifts, arching into three points of sensation instead of only one. He makes a low, demanding sound and I pinch harder while nuzzling the sensitive hollow under his ear.

Remus bucks his hips and James chokes, pulling back.

"Hold him still for me, would you?" James says, and then returns to his task, circling the head of Remus' cock and tonguing the slit until Remus moans.

I tighten my arms around Remus, one on his hip, the other still playing with his nipple and I can feel his urge to move when James takes his cock deep. Remus writhes in my arms, and I realise that I'm rubbing my cock against his arse, my leathers slipping against the fabric of his jeans. Remus is pinned here between my hands, my cock and James' mouth.

"Fuck," Remus says, his cheeks flushed and eyes squeezed shut. "I can't. I, James -"

"I don't think he'll mind," I say against the skin of his neck, and Remus moans again, a desperate keening sound.

I'm watching James over Remus' shoulder even as my lips suck Remus’ earlobe and trail over his neck. It's incredible to be part of this and to see Remus surrender to James' earnest willingness to do now what he'd never offered to do for me. I might resent that inconsistency if this wasn’t James’ apology made flesh and if James didn't look so gloriously debauched with his reddened mouth around Remus' cock.

"Merlin’s fucking balls," I say. "If you could see yourselves…"

Remus moans, his body tenses and I feel the tremors as he comes into James' mouth. James' beginners' luck with blowjobs doesn't quite stretch this far, because a final spurt lands on his cheek.

For a few seconds nobody moves and then James slowly gets to his feet. Remus reaches out and swipes his thumb across James' cheek, coating it in his come, and then he lifts his hand to my lips. I suck the thumb into my mouth, savouring Remus’ taste and swirling my tongue around the fleshy pad. Frankly, right now I'll suck whatever I'm offered.

I glance up to see James watching us with wide, dark eyes.

"Now, er -" James says.

"Bed?" I ask.

"Bed," Remus orders, straightening from his slump against me. "Any objections?"

James blushes. "I, um. I'll need to go home eventually," he says.

"Eventually's a long way off."

"I mean tonight," says James, looking like an idiot.

"I know you do," Remus says, his voice low, and he leans in close to James' ear as he continues, "but I'd like to play with you some more first."

They look fantastic together, a sharp contrast between Remus' pale hair and James' dark mop. It's completely different to the way Remus and I look in pictures, as if I'm the long haired vagabond corrupting the boy next door; different to James and I who've been described as almost a matched set.

Right now, Remus is predatory, his anger channelled into desire and some kind of lewd plan. James looks nervous and I realise that somehow we've lost control of events, he and I.

"You've got too many clothes on," Remus tells James, who is the only one still wearing a shirt.

"You," he says, turning towards me, "get rid of those trousers."

Remus' tone hasn't changed but there's something steely in his eyes, more than a hint of threat. It suddenly strikes me that having trousers that smell of sex with someone else - and they do – is idiocy if your partner is a werewolf. A werewolf who can pick up scents that no human can, who might have been smelling James on me for weeks.

"Or what?" I say, flirting with danger, and Remus' eyes flash.

"Or I'll rip them off you, Sirius," he says, in a voice that is almost a growl. "Nothing about what we're doing implies forgiveness."

I might be reckless, but I'm not stupid; I know when to keep my mouth shut.

I take off the trousers, drop them on the floor and just have time to register the movement of Remus' wand before his curse shreds the leathers into pieces. Which, given that motorbike leathers are designed to withstand high speed impact and skids without falling apart, is no mean feat. I'm just saying.

"Feel better?"

"A little," Remus says, "and what are you going to do about it?"

"What d'you want?"

James is watching us both nervously, naked to the waist. I think he's starting to realise what he's stumbled into, though he gives no sign of wanting to back out.

"I want to fuck James," Remus says, and I hear James draw in a long, ragged breath. "And to watch him fuck you," Remus finishes, his eyes fixed on my face.

This is my punishment, then, or part of it. It’s not that I mind bottoming, but I certainly envy Remus the opportunity of fucking James. Of being the first and last man who'll ever get to slick his fingers and ease his way inside him.

"James?" I say. "You alright?"

"I think so," James says and smiles at us. I couldn't resist that smile if I tried and I reach for James almost without thinking, kissing him hard, kissing like we're going to fuck. When we stop for breath we both turn to Remus, who retreats, beckoning, in the direction of the bedroom.

It's a race to follow him and when James and I step inside the door, Remus is toe-ing off his jeans and boxers. I'm out of my jeans before you could blink, but when I glance up at James he seems to waver. For a moment James' hands hover at his belt while his eyes dart from me to Remus, then down to my erection. Remus isn't hard again, yet, though I don't think it'll be long. Presuming James doesn't back out.

James unclasps his belt and wriggles out of his trousers, revealing pale legs and his cock, red and already leaking.

"What now?" says James, bravado papered over his nerves.

"You take this," Remus answers, holding out a pot of lube and beckoning James towards the bed. "And Sirius wears this."

It's not until I step closer that I see what he's holding: a cock ring. We've used it before, but never in this charged a moment.

"Where d'you want me?" I ask, in a tone that doesn't promise obedience.

"On your back," Remus orders, handing James the lube and pushing me down onto the bed.

James' eyes are wide as he dips his fingers into the lube, scooping out a generous amount.

"Now you just -" I begin, but James interrupts.

"I've, er, done this bit before."

"Well," says Remus, with a hungry smile, "let us know if you need help finding the prostate."

James doesn't appear to need any help as his fingers slide over my arsehole before the first eases inside and my hips rise to meet it.

"Not so fast, Sirius," murmurs Remus, as his hands reach to fasten the thick leather band around my balls and the base of my cock, which swells impulsively at the contact.

The next moment James slips another finger into me and moves them gingerly deeper, tips, then knuckles, then all the way to the edge of his palm. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to relax my muscles and slow my arousal. I might want this _a lot_, but I don't want to beg and whine to be fucked.

James' movements are tentative, his fingers sliding in and out while circling as he feels for my prostate. When his fingers brush against it, I moan and he stills.

"That's it?" James says, repeating the movement and eliciting another moan. "I'll take that as a yes."

"It's a yes," Remus says. "He's not very verbal like this."

"Really?" asks James innocently. "So if I asked whether I should keep doing this," - hell, yes, those fingers – "then you wouldn't reply?"

I moan.

"Shall I stop, then?" James offers, twisting his fingers so that they brush every inch of my prostate.

I try to say "No," but it comes out sounding more like "Naaar."

"Yes?" says James teasingly, beginning to slowly withdraw his hand.

Breathe and focus.

"No," I say, "For Circe's sake."

"He can talk then," James says.

"As long as we tease him enough," says Remus in a tone which suggests that some form of diabolical plan is being hatched. I open my eyes.

James is kneeling over me, his hand in my arse, and Remus sprawls languidly to one side. James' hair is a mess, his cheeks are pink, his eyes sparkle behind the glasses and his cock is hanging out. He is, in short, looking impressively debauched.

"I think we could tease him a lot more," Remus muses, and I can see an evil glint in his eye. "For example, I could do this."

He leans in and lowers his head until his mouth is perhaps an inch above the head of my cock, then exhales warmly.

I whimper and buck my hips towards his mouth.

"Oh no, you don't," James says, placing a cautioning hand on my hip.

Remus exhales again, warm, wet and _jesusmerlinfuck _I want his mouth on me. I want James to fuck me and Remus' mouth around my cock and -

Remus exhales and I let out a long, desperate wail.

"What was that, Sirius?" enquires Remus.

I attempt to say "Please," but what I hear is a stuttering sound that Remus seems intent on misunderstanding.

"Didn't catch that."

"Please," I say, drawing in a lungful of air, "fuck, _please_."

"Please what?"

"…inside."

"I think he's talking to you, James," Remus says lightly. "Perhaps my work here is done."

And he exhales.

Remus Lupin is the most sadistic bastardly tease that the world has ever known and I want to kill him. Although preferably by fucking him to death.

I groan, arching towards Remus' mouth as he moves teasingly away.

James grins as he withdraws his fingers, leaving me breathless and frustrated. I don't miss the thoughtful look he shoots Remus.

"You bastards," I say, looking at the hungry expression on Remus' face. This is the side that Remus very rarely lets out and if he wasn't so angry then perhaps I wouldn't have seen it.

James' removal of his fingers is explained when he reaches for the lube and his eyelashes flutter behind the glasses as he slicks his cock. His hand travels the length of his cock once, twice, before he moves towards me and hesitates.

"Do I need -"

"A barrier charm, yeah," says Remus.

James curses, stumbling off the bed to fumble for his wand amidst the mess of clothing. I hear him mutter the spell and within seconds he's kneeling over me again, just as Remus leans that tiny bit closer and licks the tip of my cock.

"Sirius, can I?"

"Fuck, yes!" I insist, and James smiles that infectious, mischievous grin.

"Right," he breathes, taking my thigh with one hand and lifting it until my knee curls beside my chest.

For several long seconds all I hear is ragged breathing as James grasps the base of his cock in his right hand, steering it to my arsehole. There's pressure and then the muscle yields, allowing James to press inside me.

James feels big like this, much wider than his cock seems in my hand or mouth. It's hard to be aware of anything except this full, stretched sensation, just at the edge between pleasure and excess. James pauses to watch my face and it might have been slow and intimate if Remus hadn't mouthed the head of my cock.

I arch upwards and this time Remus stays in place, taking my cock deeper into his mouth as James slips a little further inside me.

"Seven hells," mutters James, his eyes half-closed and his breaths rapid.

I look from James to Remus, who alternates teasingly between slow licks and taking the tip of my cock into his mouth. Remus rolls his tongue around the head of my cock and I groan, my arse clenching around James as I seek more pressure, more stimulation, just _more_.

James pushes in and minutely, inch by inch, his cock slides into me until his balls press against my arse. Then oh-so-slowly he withdraws, moving at a pace which betrays unexpected self-control - which is not at all what I want.

Remus licks another hot trail down my cock, his head almost touching James' stomach, and then runs the flat of his tongue back. Fuck. _Fuck_. The pressure and sweet slide as James presses deeper; the ridge of his cock grazing my prostate as he moves out again, tension slowly building. Being fucked and sucked at once like this is incredible and completely maddening, because as I grow harder and needier the cock-ring gets ever tighter. It's tantalizing to know that I can't come unless it is removed; that I can't come until Remus allows it. Fucking bastard Remus.

"How're you, James?"

"Fantastic," says James, eyes lifting to Remus' face although he doesn't pause in that slow, silky rhythm.

"Want me to fuck you?"

There's a pause and then James says "Yeah," quietly, as if he doesn’t want people to overhear. "Is Sirius…"

"I think he's alright," Remus says, eyes trailing over my body. "You could probably speed up."

"Maybe I like teasing him," James says, and they exchange a look; partners in crime once again.

I whimper and it seems to jolt Remus into action. He sits up, moving behind James and outside my range of vision; though it’s hard to focus on anything besides the feel of James' cock. My cock is getting no attention, but when I reach for it James bats my hand away.

Perhaps he's right. If I can't come then touching myself would probably drive me insane.

I can't see Remus' hands, but I can read James' face and watch how his body moves in response. His breathe hitches and his eyes close as he inhales slowly.

"Yeah," Remus says, low and seductive, "that's…ah."

James' freezes, reacting to Remus' hand inside him, and then starts to move again, gingerly now. It's beautiful to see the intensity of his response, how he's encircled between Remus and me, giving, taking, pushing.

"Another?" Remus asks and James nods, swallowing.

Again there's a moment of stillness, and then James groans, his hips quivering as he pushes into me.

"Nice?"

"Yeah."

I don't know how their brains reconcile language with fucking when all I can think is _morenowyes_, but I love hearing the muttered exchange of words over me.

James is rocking now, pushing into me and then arching back against Remus' fingers, which he doesn't stop doing even when Remus lays a hand between his shoulder blades and presses James forward until his hands are braced on the bed either side of me. Remus murmurs the barrier charm himself and then there's a taught, silent moment as Remus' body shifts and James' eyes go wide.

"James?"

"It's all right. Keep…keep going," James says, his pupils blown behind those ridiculously dorky glasses. It would be much easier to see his eyes without them, so I tug the glasses off and toss them onto the floor.

Usually James protests at any attempt to remove them, but now he only smiles and gasps as Remus moves again, his hands on James' hips.

"Oh, Merlin," James murmurs, his breath seeming to catch on every shift of Remus' hips. "Yeah, that's. More. Oh fuck, Remus, marry me."

Remus laughs, a low rumble in his chest, and one lifts one of his hands to stroke the nape of James' neck. "Lily would object."

"She can't do _this_," James says, and I would point out that actually Lily could, especially being a witch, but I can't form the words. Plus, self-interest mitigates against providing that information.

“So you like _this_, do you?” Remus asks, low and sultry.

I can feel James’ body quiver as Remus pushes into him, every thrust pushing James’ cock deeper into me. This is messy and awkward and never quite enough, but I wouldn’t swap it for anything. James’ head sags, his eyes naked and vulnerable without the glasses, and I wonder if this is the closest we’ll ever be.

For the first time in years James completely belongs to us: Remus and me, and maybe even Peter though he’s not here. This is between us, the boys, the Marauders, it’s secret and Lily has no part in it.

James’ movements get faster and wilder as Remus fucks him, his hands clutching at the sheets and his face pink. “Yeah,” he gasps, “Merlin.”

“I’m not Merlin,” Remus says, his hand tousling James’ hair as the other grasps at James’ hip to pull him closer. “I’m much more dangerous. You know you’re fucking a dark creature?”

“Fuck,” James says, bucking into me as he’s tossed between Remus and I like a sailboat in a storm. His whole body is slick and salty with sweat, muscles clenching as he tries to push back against Remus and forward into me all at once.

“You’ll never get to do this again,” Remus says, leaning in close to James’ ear, and James’ eyes clench shut as he finishes, “Come for the werewolf.”

Remus’ mouth closes on James’ neck and James gives a guttural cry, pulsing into me as he comes. He collapses onto my chest with a shudder, his cock softening, and I look up into Remus’ eyes.

“We have some unfinished business,” Remus says, pulling carefully out of James, and James withdraws to leave come dripping down my arse.

James rolls sideways to look at us. “Right,” he says, afterglow battling against uncertainty, “d’you want me to go, or...”

“You can stay,” replies Remus, “unless Sirius objects.”

They look at me and in this haze of need and sex all I can find to say is “Fuck me.”

Remus smiles, a dangerous smile with teeth. “It’s my turn, is it, Sirius? After all these weeks? Or am I a just a substitute for James?”

James frowns and sprawls at the side of the bed, his eyes watchful.

“I asked you a question.”

“Remus, please...” I manage, tongue thick around the words. “Please, I -”

“I what?”

“I want you.”

Remus leans in close, his body hovering over me but not quite touching. “I wonder if you do. I think you’d say anything to get off right now, Sirius, and I don’t believe a word of it.”

Remus’ right hand, the hand that was gentle against James’ neck as they fucked, settles at the hollow of my throat. It’s not pressing my windpipe, not exactly, but the weight carries a threat. His eyes blaze with hurt and anger, and I look away.

“I can’t make you truthful, but I can make you hear me. So _listen_ to me, Sirius” - his hand tightens, fingers gripping my throat painfully until I meet his eyes and the grip relaxes - “when I say that this is your last chance. Betray me a third time and I won’t forgive you.”

I stare at him and it’s hard to see the Remus that I know - the kind-hearted guy that does the washing up and is nice to James‘ mum, the Prefect who helped kids with their homework - amidst the rage.

For the first time I can see the wolf in Remus, these brutal impulses that he’s ruthlessly held in check. I caused this and I’m sorry for hurting him, but it would be a lie to say that this danger emanating from Remus didn’t turn me on.

“Understand?”

I nod, but his fingers don’t loosen their grip on my windpipe.

“Good,” Remus growls.

In a few sudden, brutal movements he kicks my legs wider, grabs my pelvis and shoves inside me.

Remus was careful with James, but he isn’t now and his hand is still tight around my throat. I’ve been fucked by Remus and we’ve made love, and I can tell the difference. There’s no love in this act.

James coughs and when I look at him the concern is visible on his face.

“Remus, are you...” He trails off. “Sirius, is this all right?”

Remus thrusts into me, his cock stretching and burning, the head scraping my prostate. Pleasure and pain are all tangled up in the intensity of Remus pounding his anger into me, fast and deep. Fuck, I need this.

I arch and cry out, grasping at Remus’ stomach and James starts forward saying, “Sirius?”

“OK,” I gasp, past the fingers that press into my vocal chords.

James stills. “You...” he begins, “This is something between you that...”

“Yes,” says Remus, without looking away.

He’s fucking me with all his force, fucking the way that claws tear through fur, like it’s an act of destruction. His hand tightens around my throat, choking me and Remus watches my face as the fear rises. I _can’tbreathecan’tbreathe_, but he never stops, doesn’t stop fucking me and I _can’tbreathe_ Remus, please -

His fingers clench and my vision goes black as he spills into me, thrusting and quivering but horribly silent. Remus jerks his hand away from my neck and for a moment all I’m aware of is his unsteady breathing, before he presses a kiss to the bruise at my throat. When Remus whispers the leather band around my cock disappears and free of the restriction I come desperately, uncontrollably, spurting over his stomach without another touch.

It should be too late for things to be awkward, but they are. James is rumpled and damp when he Apparates home to Lily, though I don’t have the energy to worry about that.

My throat aches from the bruise that Remus’ fingers have left, but he doesn’t offer to heal it. Remus doesn’t say anything until after I’ve spelled out the candles. Then, in the sickly yellow light of the street lamps, he leans briefly across the bed and murmurs, “I could hate you for this.”  
4.

 

You want to know about James' relationship with his friends? The Marauders, as they call themselves. Hmm, I hardly know where to start.

I've heard that the earth's magnetic field can switch direction, that something deep in the core reverses and everyone's compasses break. Birds migrate in the wrong directions, drawn towards a new pole, and that's what it looked like with the boys. For years Remus had gravitated to Sirius, tugged like the tides to the moon, and then suddenly it was James.

I don't know what prompted the shift and frankly I don't want to know. I was aware that my husband was fucking Sirius; you can't observe a friendship for years without noticing that sort of change. Especially since Sirius has the world's worst poker face.

I can even tell you the night it happened: August 25th 1979, when James came home reeking of sweat and sex while babbling some story about policemen named Elvendork.

Perhaps I ought to have been upset, but Sirius never seemed to be a threat and a little groping during an Order mission is hardly an intrusion into our marriage. If James is that desperate to get off, then I'm not sure I care who he does it with. Besides, he's always delightfully guilty and attentive for the next few days.

You think that's awfully calculating? I'd call it realistic; I've always been a pragmatist at heart. You might recall that Severus was my closest friend for years, which should tip you off that I'm not entirely nice.

No, the thing between James and Sirius never bothered me. I didn't worry until after whatever it was that happened with Remus. Afterwards he gazed at James with a soft expression that made James freeze like a deer in the headlights. That dynamic could have been a problem if Sirius hadn't already been intent on destroying it.

I pity Sirius, but he brought this on himself.

Stars do that, don't they? Burn brighter and brighter until they implode and spiral into darkness. Perhaps the whole thing was inevitable and all the rest of us could do was stop Sirius from destroying us too.

Of course, this is why I insisted on Peter. Speaking as an observer, I know Sirius Black has never been able to keep a secret.


End file.
